Dirl
by sherlocks
Summary: When his friend begged him to help her send a text to her newly acquainted foreign boyfriend-to-be, he had thought it was a one-time thing. Obviously it wasn't. Curiosity quickly sprouted, but at the end of the day, who was really doing the talking?
1. Chapter 1

Based off of a true story.

**Summary**: When his friend begged him to help her send a text to her newly acquainted foreign boyfriend-to-be, he had thought it was a one-time thing. Obviously it wasn't. Curiosity quickly sprouted, but at the end of the day, who was really doing the talking?

**Dirl **

by sherlocks.

_dirl—(v.) to thrill, to vibrate, to penetrate; to tremble or quiver _

"You're kidding, right?" He gave his long-time friend an incredulous look. She couldn't be serious. Who would ask that of someone anyway? Sure, they were buddies, but there should still be some hint of something called personal boundaries in their relationship.

"Oh, come on, Inuyasha! Please?" When all she got was a twitch to the lips, she tried her last tactic. She wasn't one to lose. Especially when there was some hot ass on the line. Here come the excessively fluttering teary lashes coupled with a subtle forced blush that no living form could deny…

More like the okay-I-get-it-get-out-of-my-face-before-I-commence-urinating-in-my-pants look, Inuyasha corrected. He sincerely hoped that face wasn't the reason the poor target in question had given his number away. "It's just that your English is so much better than mine and I really, really want to get this guy interested in me. I don't want to come out as stupid…"

Inuyasha looked away, reluctant to offer his hard earned intellect for such an idiotic reason. But when the pain in his arm became too great to bear, thanks to stupid Kagome's unnecessary pulling, he gave in. Besides, what harm would one text do? He would just be acting as translator anyway, nothing big.

"Fine, fine, just shut up already. What do you want me to say?" He grumbled as the phone was practically shoved into his face.

"This is my first text, so um, I guess I just wanted to say hello. I wonder if he even remembers me? Oh god, Inuyasha, he was so hot, I bet you would have been interested, too." Unlikely, Inuyasha scoffed. No offence, but if Kagome liked him, that alone told him enough. Their tastes in partners (and sometimes friends) rarely ever coincided and even gay men had their types. He could say with absolute confidence that none of Kagome's boy toys thus far fell under the category of potential lovers. Not even close.

Deciding that answering her friend would not be the best of ideas since he was in no mood for a hissy fit today, he directed his full attention to writing a proper text, fluency included:

'_**Hey, cutie. This is Kagome, we exchanged numbers last night at 'Club Infinity'. Just wanted to drop a quick hello and here's to hoping you still remember my sweet little face.' **_

Inuyasha snickered. If he was going to be thanked for sending these kinds of messages, he could definitely get used to it.

"Okay, done! Here." He remarked, satisfied, as he shoved his friend's cell right back and proceeded to leave the café and sprint towards his workplace. "The bill's all yours for the trouble! Let me know how it goes!" He waved back. Man, lunch break should really be longer.

Before entering the office, Inuyasha made sure he looked presentable. He was known as a perfectionist—the best secretary around—if only at his workplace, and whenever he could, he lived up to that reputation as best he could. It was the only way he could gain respect in this vicious field.

There were several reasons why he chose this profession despite being quite capable of being so much more, but perhaps the most compelling reason was the sheer trust he was able to gain from every satisfied employer. The high he felt knowing that he was someone who others could rely on without a single doubt was simply the best feeling in the world. He honestly felt no shame in lusting for it like a desperate dog in heat. After all, those who were most needed held the highest power. Trust meant information, and information meant strength. In the eyes of his superiors and his colleagues, he may be a mere lapdog, but at the end of the day, he was the top-dog wearing underdog's fur.

The adrenaline rush was just incomparable to anything else. Anticipating another dose soon, Inuyasha straightened his back and entered the building with the confidence of a king.

He reviewed his current placement during the slow elevator ride up, seeing as how it would be ending soon. It was always rough around this time as his employers often requested extensions for his stays. Sure, he was competent, but it was against his personal policy to renew contracts. It was essential that he moved on to another company before he lost interest.

He shivered.

He discovered rather early on in his career that this was his one and only weakness. Once he loses interest, he becomes completely useless—lazy, insecure, intellectually defected on more levels than one, lacking of common sense and completely neglectful of health and hygiene. What of his cleverness, his wit, his precious coherency?

Fuck no.

He was never going to go back to that again. EVER. Emphasis on that last part.

Thankfully, his contract, which currently belonged to the newly formed Druxy Industries, lasted for only 2 more menial months. He now had a vast amount of information on Druxy (to be recorded later), so there really was no more reason to stay. True to the elite assistant Inuyasha's most notorious reputation, he had brilliantly polished a raw and unknown company to a shine rivaling that of a 3000-carat diamond.

Damn, he was good—he smirked as he made his way out of the elevator and into his prim office located directly to the right of the company president's.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks dawn chase, for the encouraging first review! This chapter is for you. Also thanks to RedOnyxMoon and a guest reviewer for their kind words, as well as everyone who favourited and/or added this story to their alerts.

**Summary**: When his friend begged him to help her send a text to her newly acquainted foreign boyfriend-to-be, he had thought it was a one-time thing. Obviously it wasn't. Curiosity quickly sprouted, but at the end of the day, who was really doing the talking?

**Dirl **

by sherlocks.

_dirl—(v.) to thrill, to vibrate, to penetrate; to tremble or quiver _

He tsk'ed at the monitor as if it was the most unappealing thing in the world. It wasn't really the machine itself that had wronged him, but rather, what it currently displayed. His eyes twitched at the humble email from the company president, showering him with unnecessary flattery and all the universal social remarks, building and building, ever so slowly, to the ultimate inquiry: would he be willing to stay on board for another year?

Hell no, he wasn't willing! But that isn't even important right now! He thought he had taught the president better than this. Not that the email was poor, no, no, not at all. It was adequately appropriate and written in a way that made it impossible to rebuke. Even he was left speechless and for that, the president should certainly be given some degree of applause. He even managed to include a reasonable explanation for the purpose of his sudden email. No, the problem lied elsewhere.

Although it did not happen recently, Inuyasha was pretty sure that, at some point, he had gone over the importance of personal approaches with the president. Particular emphasis was put on matters that involved a request, favour, some form of reconciliation and/or compromise. He remembered explaining how advantageous it would be to discuss such things face-to-face and encouraging the president to utilize this strategy whenever possible.

Persuasion is an art that can only be used to its full potential when your weaponry was not limited by mere pixels of text. You must use your body language, your expressions, and the tone of your words to win your opponents over, even if only for 3 minutes. A signature takes less than 20 seconds, a handshake of agreement and a vow takes an average of 3 minutes, and the exchange of business cards requires no more than two and a half. A mere three minutes could guarantee a lifetime's worth of benefits if the cards were played right. And this email was definitely NOT playing the cards right.

Inuyasha sighed. Well, not that he would have stayed anyway, had he been approached directly, but still. This kind of reckless behaviour just grated on his perfectionist nerves. Not to mention his personal preference for the non-diddling-daddling type.

But what could he say? He would be leaving soon. Five more weeks, he reminded himself. Five more weeks. It would be inappropriate at this stage to point out any misgivings. Above all else, it would imply that he was interested in extending the contract and that wouldn't be good. As per unspoken protocols, he had been involving himself less and less in the various activities of the company. Instead, he silently encouraged others to take over for him, thus proving their competence and allowing him enough grounds to leave. No way would he ruin his plans now. Nope. The president will just have to learn one or two lessons the hard way.

Having made up his mind, Inuyasha sent back an equally impressive email, flattery and modesty very much present, and called it an afternoon. Today's lunch would be spent with Kagome again, as much as he had been avoiding the encounter. He supposed it was about time he learned that Kagome would always get what she wanted. Eventually and always. He refused to stop being a stubborn ass about it though.

Every single day after he had sent that message to the supposed hottie, Kagome had bothered him with texts and voicemails and phone calls and facebook messages and fucking everything else she was technically adept at (which composed, surprisingly, a pretty big list). What, was it his fault the Don Juan didn't reply back to his perfectly sculpted message, even after 3 weeks? Well, okay, fine, maybe not perfect, but it wasn't all that bad either. And definitely worthy of a reply.

For all they knew, Mr. Lothario may have read the message and instantly remembered Kagome, which may or may not have influenced his decision to forever ignore the message like it was the last thing he wanted to see.

Ya know, just sayin'.

So he really didn't understand why Kagome so passionately insisted that he MUST send another appealing text (in exchange for an order of deluxe Caffé Pistachio gelato, he conditioned), just to "make sure." Clearly, pouts and sulks are in order. At least for the first 10 seconds of their lunch date, he reasoned. And thus, he was met with Kagome's moping in response to his behaviour. The fact that he now had two orders of Caffé Pistachio in front of him meant he had won. Not that he wanted to brag or anything, but his pouts _were _pretty damn sexy.

"Are we really doing this again?" He had to confirm. If he could, nothing would ruin his precious moment with Caffé Pistachio. He had to try, right?

"Of course we are! I've been boyfriend-less for 3 months now, that is _so _not cool!" Trial failed.

"You know, single does have its privileges."

"You would know!"

"I would." He smirked.

The last time he tried the dating scene was ages ago. Ages ago meaning one year, and it had been a complete disaster. He didn't have to be the cheesy or hopeless romantic type to hold his personal relationships with others in high regard. He cared for people more than he let on, which he knew often created impossible distances between him and his significant others.

When in a suit, he exuded pure confidence and facades came to him as easily as breathing in air. But facades aren't needed in loving someone. For Inuyasha, this only made the task of falling in love lean more towards the impossible side of cupid's scale. Real relationships, he found, are beyond difficult to find and form and even harder to maintain and keep. He needed to change, he knew, he really did, and last year, he thought he had finally found someone with enough patience to stick around and be the first to see such changes. But no, he thought wrong and god, he _hated_ when he was wrong.

Let's just say he won't be 'acting' single while being tastefully unavailable anytime in the near future.

"But unlike you, I need to go on dates."

"No," Inuyasha corrected while pointing the tiny silver spoon at her nonchalantly, "you want, not need, expensive things your income cannot pay for."

"Right, so I need to go on dates."

Ignoring her temporary insanity, he asked, "Are you sure he can even afford your whims?"

"I think so, he definitely looked the part. And he was _so_ hot, Inuyasha. Like you wouldn't believe, seriously. His eyes are to die for, I totally felt like I was being pulled in!" She sighed blissfully and proceeded to stare at the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Inuyasha liked it better when his attention was on his gelato. Solely on his gelato.

"How are you even sure? Didn't you only get to see the guy for like, 3 minutes or something?"

"Yeah, but Inuyasha, he was ordering Dom Pérignons like fifty-cent lemonade before I even introduced myself. That's got to say something about his wallet."

"Or his friend's wallet. Maybe even his parents'. Or perhaps his entire savings up until that night. You never know." He shrugged, already considering another order of oral ecstasy.

"Would me saying 'please, with a cherry on top' change your mind?" She tried.

It was her time to fail though. "Nope."

But Inuyasha was such a good friend, so, "But a please and a cherry on top of a Lemon Sorbet just might do the trick."

Kagome grinned, made the order, and edged her cellphone across the table towards him. This time, he willing accepted the godforsaken device.

"Okay, so I guess I just want to say hello, and um, maybe ask him again whether he remembers me or not? I wore the hot pink tank top that night—"

"Give me something else." He interrupted suddenly.

"What?"

He looked up from the texting interface with a dull look. "How many girls in pink tank tops do you think a guy like him would see in one night, at a popular club?"

"Oh, right, uhm…er…"

"Just spit it out, Kagome."

"I, uh, kind of spilled a drink on him…"

Inuyasha stared at her for a whole five seconds before bursting out laughing. "Phfft! Nice going, Kagome, that's a great way to steal someone's heart!" Oh, his stomach ached so well.

"I-It wasn't my fault, I swear! This blonde foreigner behind me pushed me and it just happened by accident!" The ferocious red of her face said otherwise, but Inuyasha managed to force down his amusements, although reluctantly, and completed the finishing touches to the text message:

'**Hey again, ye who sucks butt at responding to messages. I'm a nice person so I'll just assume that you forgot the name I threw at you that night (as well as my, still, sweet little face). If it helps at all though, I was wearing a pink tank top and also managed to paint quite a beautiful colour across the canvas of your shirt (completely unintentionally, I promise). So maybe give a shout back so that I can at least apologize, yeah?' **

He read it over one last time before hitting send, but honestly, can you blame him for snickering?

"If he doesn't reply to this message, I will buy you those deadly heels you've been eyeing for the last week and a half." He assured with a brilliant smile, positive that there was no human being on the face of this planet who would not be at least a little bit perturbed by his subtly provocative challenge mail.


	3. Chapter 3

Apologies for going MIA, things have been busy. Please look forward to an upcoming two chapter update from me as a holiday gift to all of you. Thanks for stickin' around, it's been really swell so far; I hope I can make it up to you guys.

In other news, I've set up a new poll in my profile and its results will govern the updates following the ones mentioned above. Please vote on it, if you'd like.

**Summary**: When his friend begged him to help her send a text to her newly acquainted foreign boyfriend-to-be, he had thought it was a one-time thing. Obviously it wasn't. Curiosity quickly sprouted, but at the end of the day, who was really doing the talking?

**Dirl  
**by sherlocks.

_dirl—(v.) to thrill, to vibrate, to penetrate; to tremble or quiver _

Of all things—  
He never thought he would say this ever again but—he had lost. There was no room for dispute. Inuyasha had lost to a motherfucking inanimate object with no ounce of intelligence whatsoever. God.

How embarrassing.

It was just all so ridiculous; Kagome's insistence, her boy toy's nonexistence, his own lack of resistance, all of it! Never (since leaving his college days behind) had he felt so much irritation towards a single object. Not only that, but the irritation would come in chronic waves, threatening to disturb the mantra of his daily routines, and oh, he _so_ disliked unruly interruptions.

…Alright, fine.

Deep down, he knew this wasn't really a strange case of resistentialism, that it was really Mr. Casanova's fault that he'd been face palming himself enough times to cause a blistering temple as of late. But as he currently had no live person to which he could conveniently dump his disapproval on, he'd no choice but to displace any internal grudges onto the next best thing he still understood to be real: Kagome's stupid, goddamn phone.

A week and a half in and still there had been no news from Hotshot. Inuyasha had refused to believe it at first but yesterday's lunch date with Kagome had given him the definite proof for his failure. Inbox (0), the phone's screen mocked him. He practically scoffed right then and there. Man, he _really _didn't like this guy. That is, if there even was a real live person on the other end of the line.

It wasn't that big of a deal, he had realized after re-examining the entire situation with a level head. This all just proved that the man of interest wasn't worth Kagome's (or his, for that matter) while. But then Kagome's _awfully_ squeaky voice had somehow managed to convince him otherwise by the end of lunch. Kagome had a talent for that it seemed.

And if anything, Inuyasha was a man—he never went back on his words. He was handsome, confident, and totally macho, and that was exactly how he portrayed himself last evening, as he strutted into the nearest high-end designer shop, asked for the suicidal heels Kagome could never afford, and then proceeded to swagger out the shop with chins up and a distasteful hot pink bag on hand.

Yup, _very _manly. Keep your pants on.

To be honest, at the time, he hadn't been all that upset about butchering his wallet into kingdom come. He had assumed this would mean the end of the text messages and the reappearance of a slightly less insane Kagome. A fair price to pay, he had reasoned with himself.

But nooo, because then he learned he was mistaken. Oh yeah, did he mention how much he _hated_ being wrong?

When he drove over to Kagome's place to give her the shoes that night (because there was no way he would allow himself to be seen in public with that ugly bag a second time), Kagome had demanded he send another text. Of course, he had declined profusely (because he wasn't insane nor drunk) and was even proud to not have fallen for the chocolate croissants bait.

Except, one does not simply underestimate a single, boyfriendless-for-nearly-four-months Kagome.

He couldn't believe she had set it all up; to 'accidentally' pour her drink on him, have him take a shower at her place, and then cunningly take his very expensive suit as hostage. It was true what they say; your friends really _are_ your worst enemies. Damn Kagome for knowing how much he valued his professional wear. His suit fetish was a kept secret of his, but it certainly didn't make the situation any better.

…He should have taken the fucking croissants.

To be fair though, the text he had sent in his baffled state had not been a pretty one… not that Kagome would ever find out.

_If you have balls, you'll answer this fucking text!_

He snorted as he thought back to yesterday's chain of events. Let's see him get out of that one. Whatever.

Only real losers would dwell on their failures and Inuyasha was not the type to stay down. Whatever happens will happen, sure, but before long, he'd have conjured up multiple solutions for any problem that would come his way. This was, after all, one of his biggest assets as an elite secretary.

Thus, he was able to go through the president's correspondences this morning without many distractions, having already decided on his courses of action should the guy not text back within the next 2 weeks or before Kagome's ovaries fucking implode.

Depending on his mood, he would either temporarily refuse all contact with Kagome (like a boss, because he wasn't running away, clearly), or elegantly coax her into thinking that the guy had given her the wrong number while under a drunken state. And well, if he hadn't been all that plastered, then Inuyasha will just have to make him sound like an utter douchebag so that Kagome can hate on the guy for a few days, move on, find another guy to cling onto for all her costly cravings, and leave him in peace.

Inuyasha's first _real_ distraction of the day came in the form of a phone call from a certain S Corporate. Druxy's rapid growth in the last few months had shaken Japan's entire business circle, which subsequently led to a spike in the level of public interest. Inuyasha had predicted and effectively dealt with every new prospect that came their way thus far, but in no way was he prepared for a call from the leading Construction Company of all of Asia.

Well, _fuck_.

Only after his brief conversation with their secretary did he allow his lips to form the curvature of an impish smirk. It would seem that Druxy Industries now stood dangerously at the intersection of two doors. Behind one was kept a winning lottery ticket, while the other led straight to the edge of a steep cliff.

_Ah, he really couldn't have asked for a more thrilling concluding assignment_, he hummed.

Glancing sideways at the office clock, he picked up the stack of materials at the end of the desk with one arm, grabbed for a coat with the other, and made his way towards the president's office. Upon reaching the door, a knock was made and a quick text, sent.

"Pardon the intrusion, sir," he bowed in respect, "but you've an appointment in an hour with Mr. Kobayashi at Della Hotel to discuss the conditions of renewing their current contract with us."

"Ah, yes. That was today, wasn't it?" Try as Inuyasha might, his boss simply could not surrender his reoccurring sheepish smile. It really was a bad habit, possibly even detrimental to the company, but given his remaining time at Druxy's, he will just have to leave the task to his successor. He gave a small smile nonetheless.

"Yes, it is. I have readied the materials you'll need, may I suggest going over them in the car?" He offered the president his coat, which he hurriedly placed on—a sign Inuyasha knew meant nervousness. Maneuvering to flick off a piece of fluff off his shoulder, he casually aimed for an acupressure point along the man's trapezius and felt the president relax under his palm. As they made their way out the door, Inuyasha initiated the usual routine.

"I suspect the meeting will be short?"

"Yes, no longer than an hour. I'd like to stop for coffee on the way." Too bad Inuyasha had expected this escape route.

"I've asked the driver to bring your favourite blend, if that is adequate."

"Ah, I see…" Very bad habit indeed.

Given no other verbal response, Inuyasha continued. "I'd like you to have a proper lunch after this meeting. Then, at 3pm, you'll be required to attend the opening ceremony for the new Uvex Department Store in downtown Tokyo. A lovely dinner date with your wife at Bridges Italian Restaurant will follow at 6pm, thus concluding your day."

He'll have to talk about S Corp.'s proposition at a later time, no need to give the poor guy more pressure now. It was one of those rare instances where he could not be by the president's side during a business confrontation, but in Inuyasha's honest opinion, he did not believe his help in that particular area was needed any longer.

Besides, he was missing his own lunch today already as is, aside from having other affairs to address, so the president will just have to do without him.

Upon reaching the car, he proceeded to discuss the important points listed in the materials as they made their way to the hotel. He encouraged the president not to give in to the other party's ultimatums too quickly, reminded him again that it was them that had the upper hand and that their recent rise in reputation necessitated proper conditions. Seeing the president's confidence and greatest weapon revive in his eyes was great and all, but as Inuyasha had learned in the earlier years of his life, everything came with a risk.

"Well done, Inuyasha. With this, the contract is ours." Inuyasha read hesitation in the fine wrinkles underneath the man's eyes, but he was fairly sure it had nothing to do with the upcoming meeting. "It will be difficult without you here. Are you positive there's nothing I can do to extend your stay at Druxy's? Perhaps you'd like an increase in—"

Inuyasha grimaced internally. _I'm afraid not, Mr. President, although I appreciate the effort._ "Not at all, sir," he politely interjected. "The Company will do fantastically, as long as _you_ remain. My successor will no doubt be of great assistance to you in all your future endeavours."

"You approve of him?"

"Yes, of course." And he wasn't lying. "I can voucher for him as a friend and colleague. After all, Miroku and I did attend the same renowned college you hold in such high regard. You will not be disappointed." He offered a smile as closure, the one that was capable of dispelling all qualms. He owed Miroku big time now—for playing such a darling scapegoat—but as this seemed to be the only way to shut his boss up about the matter, so be it.

Arriving at Della Hotel with impeccable timing as always, Inuyasha quickly informed the driver to be back within the hour. It had been a while since the president visited his favourite restaurant for lunch. After wishing his boss the best of luck and instructing him to return to the company before his next appointment, he strolled past a park to the Tiffany & Co.'s he remembered was nearby. It wouldn't do to give the wife any incentives to believe her husband had forgotten their wedding anniversary.

Two hours, two sore legs, and a shitpile of organized papers later, Inuyasha found himself face to face with his boss again, who happened to be sporting quite the dazzling grin. Going by his mood and the stellar-sized folders of fine texts and signatures, he'd say things went _pre-tty_ well at the meeting. Within the hype and reinforced levels of endorphins, he found an opportune moment to remark on the contents of S Corp's earlier call. With his reassurance, the president approved the meeting with the latter's CEO to review their proposal.

_Mission accomplished_, Inuyasha grinned.

The president then went about finishing the rest of the day's work. Meanwhile, Inuyasha went to inspect the statuses of the junior secretaries—nothing else better to do now that he was finished with all the preparations for the remainder of the week. He had even gone beyond that to comprise all the relevant files for the upcoming meeting with S Corp _next_ week.

Not that he was gloating, but his predictions, led on by his instincts, rarely (if ever) failed to deliver. He'd no doubt the president would agree to the conference.

When it came time for dinner, Inuyasha presented the president with the 18-karat rose diamond pendant—ah, there was that bad habit popping up again—that evoked the splendid beauty of a blossoming flower. Sappy, yes, but hopefully his elaborate explanation would give his boss some ideas on what to shower his wife later. He had psychologically prepped the president throughout the day by keeping his spirits high, there was no way he was going to let all that go to waste over something as stupid as lack of flattery, especially when it was clearly anticipated.

After dropping the president off at Bridge's, he informed him that the entire roof of the restaurant had been booked for the night so that the couple could leisurely relish their time. He suggested speaking with the manager first, as a rich bouquet of roses for the wife had already been picked out earlier that afternoon. A brief goodnight and thank you and Inuyasha was finally on his way back home.

As he played the president's prior words in his head, he found it quite amusing how far it was from the truth. He really wasn't as 'godlike' as he was often labelled. He'd never admit it, but there was one—only one—thing he strongly envied about the president, and that was the fact that he had found the life partner meant only for him. Meanwhile…

Inuyasha took a glance at himself and sighed.

Time to watch some incredible gay porn, jack off, and call it a fucking night! Determined (and pouting), he reached for the laptop nearest to his bed, tuned into his favourite gay porn site, pulled up some of the sexiest men alive, and did what every man on this earth was born to do.

When his briefs became far too tight, he stripped off halfway and shivered when the delightful cool air abused the burning skin of his hard-on. His face flushed in embarrassment as he realized how long he had gone without masturbating, but _god,_ the thought of how thick the load he was now expecting would be only turned him on even more.

Shakily, he cupped his balls and began with a slow massage, groaning as his penis grew firmer than before. He gave himself a few swift fondles with his free hand and rubbed the area surrounding his member—_anywhere _but there. Not yet, he cried mentally, shutting his eyes closed. Stronger strokes this time. Oh, it was so addicting, that torturous yet enticing friction between his legs. _Faster._ He continued his slutty ministrations, with periods of abuse and pamper, over and over in a beautifully achieved rhythm. No longer under his control, his thighs shifted farther, and farther, _and farther_ apart, until his hips reached bittersweet pain and _fuck, he couldn't. _Inuyasha hurled his head back and—

_Ring, ring, ring!_

—visibly jumped a few inches above the bed.

_Ring, ring, ring!_

…Holy fucking Jesus.

This had _better_be an emergency, or someone was going to fucking die tonight! He growled in (both mental _and_ sexual) frustration as he reached for his Blackberry. He took a moment to bring his heartbeat back to normal then took a gander at the dead man walking.

Dead woman walking, he corrected.

"What do you want, Kagome?!" He screamed into the receiver.

"Oh my god, oh my god, Inuyasha! You won't believe this!"

"What!" _OUT WITH IT WOMAN, I'VE GOT AN UNIMPRESSED COCK IN MY HAND._

"He texted back! The guy at the club, he texted back, just now!"

…

Inuyasha brought his phone down and gawked at it, incredulous. Was this seriously happening? Did he _actually_ just get cockblocked by some shitty poorly-timed brat with no manners whose name and face he had yet to learn? Wow, just _wow_. Things could not get any worse.

Wait.

Wait, wait, hold on. What does she mean, he texted back? He wasn't supposed to text back, he wasn't even supposed to be real! What of his brilliantly thought out plans then? Of the peace of mind he was looking forward to? He thought he had finally reached the point of conclusion for this stupid game, but what? Proven completely wrong, _yet again_, by some absurd impalpable phantom? Why was it that every time he thought he'd achieved checkmate, he gets thoroughly bitchslapped instead? Who the fuck does this guy think he is?! …Shit.

"What a fucking _tease_."


End file.
